Chapter Five
Emmett
What was I thinking when I told her just one kiss?
I wasn’t thinking, and that was the problem. I figured I’d taste her soft mouth once, just for the hell of it, and then I’d put her out of my mind until I left for Nashville. Not only was that three goddamn days ago, but my return to Nashville was now delayed, and she was still on my mind. Images of the way she sucked in that delicious bottom lip of hers whenever she wanted to argue with me, and the way she played with that key she wore around her neck every time she was nervous haunted me at every turn. And I didn’t want to start on the memory of her standing naked in front of me on the morning I first laid eyes on her, her incredible body frozen and her mouth wide open—thoughts of Kinsey’s tits and the tiny stud adorning her belly button had kept me awake for nights.
I shouldn’t have taken her out.
And I sure as shit shouldn’t have made music with her.
Because as she bounced into the kitchen on Tuesday morning, with her wet hair swinging around her shoulders, her skin still a little damp and inviting from her shower, and her tiny shorts clinging to her ass like a second skin, I knew there was no way in hell I wanted to leave Georgia without taking a little more of Kinsey Brock.
And even that might not even be enough. The girl had wiggled her way into my head—one twitch of her hips at a time.
“Morning.” She opened the cabinet by the coffeemaker and shot me a tentative smile over her shoulder. “Where’s Mrs. H? I knocked on her bedroom door and checked the sunroom but I didn’t see her.”
“Mim didn’t want me to wake you since it’s your day off, but she’s in Decatur today volunteering with her women’s club.”
“Ahhh … that’s right. Yeah, she told me about it a couple weeks ago.” Shuffling through the contents of the cabinet, she frowned. “And I’ve been awake for a while. I was just … thinking.”
I hoped like hell that I was creeping into her thoughts just as much as she was mine.
“Your cereal’s right above the fridge,” I said, and she murmured a thank you. She was tall—if I had to guess five-seven or eight—but she still had to stand on her tiptoes to grab the box of Frosted Flakes. I started to volunteer to help her but then her shorts rode up, and I was caught in the glory that was McKinsey Brock’s ass. God bless Levi jeans and scissors.
I cleared my throat. “What’re you getting into today?”
Juggling the cereal, a carton of milk, and a bowl and spoon, she approached the table cautiously. “When Mrs. H gets home, I’ve got to go to the store and—”
“I’ll take you after you eat. And there’s no point arguing with me, Angel, because it’s just wasted breath. I’ve got nothing else to do.”
“Except for write songs.” She pointed at the guitar propped against the wall after she poured her cereal. “How many of your songs’ll be on your album?”
“All of them are mine.” It was something that I was proud of, and I’d worked my ass off writing and collaborating. My manager had nearly shit a brick when I’d insisted I wanted to make my own music, but it was important. It made the words I’d sing—the notes I’d strum--authentic. “Wanna hear something?”
She sighed heavily. Was she swooning? “How could I say no?”
“Smart girl, Angel.” Drawing the guitar from its spot against the wall, I positioned it on my lap. “Any requests?”
“A ballad,” she immediately answered. When I grinned, she shrugged sheepishly. “What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Mentally, I scrolled through my song list before I finally plucked the intro of Gasoline. It had been the first song I’d written after a long drought—about the flames that kept burning long after shit hit the fan. She listened intently, forgetting about her cereal to bob her head along with the rhythm. When I plucked the cadence, she clapped her hands together enthusiastically.
“I’d give anything to be able to write songs like that.” She tapped her nails on the edge of the kitchen table and shrugged. “At least there’s always karaoke. Have you played that for Mrs. H yet? I know she’d love to hear it.”
“You’re the first, but don’t worry, Mim’ll hear all my songs before I leave for Nashville. Gotta admit, part of me is anxious to get back in the studio at the end of July to lay this down.” I sure as hell wouldn’t admit the other part of me was just as anxious to be around her.
She drew in a harsh breath through her teeth. “The end of July?” I cocked my brow, and she frowned. Ah, shit. This wasn’t good. “I thought you were going back to Nashville in a few days.”
“Got a call from my manager last night that there’ve been a couple hiccups.” I lifted my shoulders. Speaking to Tony about the production issues, I’d been pissed at first, but then I quickly realized what a win my situation was. I had another several weeks to get to know the sexy little blonde sitting across from me. “Talked to Mim this morning and she was almost in tears when I said I was sticking around a little longer.”
Kinsey’s hand shook when she lifted her spoon to her lips. She chewed slowly, her expression suddenly unreadable. “I see.”
I sat the guitar aside. When I focused on her again, she was playing with the red key around her neck. Damn, I was curious to know the significance behind that key. It was driving me just as crazy as she was.
“You’re nervous about having me around,” I said. Her lips quirked into a hesitant smile, so I scooted my seat closer to her. Our knees brushed, causing her to tighten her hands into fists. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
Snorting, she swiped a napkin from the holder on the table and wiped her mouth. “Because it was just one kiss, right?”
“Unless we agree to another. And one more after that. And then—”
She slid away from the table abruptly, so abruptly her chair almost toppled over. I grabbed it, taking in her quick, agitated movements as she grabbed her half-empty bowl.
“I looked you up online the other night, you know?” She stalked to the sink, her angry steps just as sexy as the seductive walk she probably wasn’t even aware of. “I mean, before you flirt with me, you should probably delete your latest Wall correspondence with Gianna.”
I groaned at the mention of my ex. Beautiful and cultured, Gianna had wanted nothing more than to screw, complain, and lie. I’d drawn the line at the lying, and we’d broken up last year.
“That’s what I thought,” Kinsey whispered.
When she sped out of the kitchen to cut across the house through the dining room, I caught up with her and caged her in between the buffet and the china cabinet. I cupped her delicate chin in my hands, tilting her face to mine. Her blue eyes widened.
“Oh, Angel, I’m touched you looked me up.”
“Ugh, I bet you’re used to girls going full-on stupid when you look at them and lower your voice like that.” She was breathless, and damn, it turned me on.
“Like you’re doing right now judging by how big your pupils are.” I fingered a lock of her damp hair. She whimpered, and I couldn’t resist it—I traced my lips along her collarbone. Goddamn, she smelled good. Soft and sweet, a little forbidden. “You don’t have to worry, I’m not making plans to peel those tight, little shorts off your ass when I’ve got a girlfriend twiddling her thumbs while she waits for me to make it big.”
Her chest heaved up and down. “What?”
“Gianna’s my ex, Angel,” I explained. “She’s a friend of my sister and Hazel sometimes handles PR for my Facebook page. Sorry, but what you witnessed was my sister flirting on my behalf.” Hazel has this unrealistic fantasy that I’ll forget all Gianna’s lying and bullshit. It wasn’t happening.
Kinsey squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh my god, I feel like such an idiot.”
“Now,” I whispered against her throat. She shuddered, arced her body against mine. I gripped her ass, moved her even closer to me. Her eyes flew open at the realization my cock was rock hard against her flat stomach
. “We better get the hell out of here. Before I go through with what I just promised
“Taking my shorts off?” she gasped, and I licked the corners of her lips. “You didn’t promise to do that.”
“Well, I am now.”
♫
Kinsey was quiet the entire trip to the nearest Target and back and didn’t speak up until I pulled through a carwash to vacuum the grass out of my truck. Climbing out, she stretched her arms and legs before padding across the asphalt toward me with a determined look on her face.
“You look like you’ve got a lot to say.”
She sat on the brick platform that housed the coin slot. “I don’t want to lose what I’ve got with your grandmother by sleeping with you,” she blurted out.
I handed her a couple quarters, and she dropped them in the slot beside her. “So you’ve thought about me and you?” I demanded loudly over the roar of the vacuum.
She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Well, no shit. You parade around the house with no shirt, you look at me like you’re still picturing me naked, and then that kiss.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, but before she could continue, someone yelled out her name. Her body went taut. I frowned over her shoulder at the motherfucker in the man-tank and oversized cargo shorts who was leering at us from one of the carwash bays.
“Great,” she mumbled under her breath. She shimmied off the bricks. “I’m just going to wait in the truck.”
I stopped her, squeezing her hip lightly before she had a chance to run away. “What’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat—a nervous, gritty sound—that made me completely stop what I was doing. I hung the vacuum hose back on the holster, waiting for her answer. Finally, she lifted her shoulders. “I’m fine. It’s just Ryan. Some … idiot I went out with once, and—”
But she sure as hell didn’t look fine when he jogged over. If I didn’t dislike him before, I instantly hated him the moment he let out a low whistle and said, “Jesus, girl, I’ve tried to call you all summer.”
“I’ve been busy with work?”
“Still at the nursery?” he asked, and she moved her head in a gesture that wasn’t exactly positive or negative confirmation. I didn’t need to know a damn thing about their history to figure out she wanted nothing to do with this guy, and the fact he was staring at her tits with me right beside her just solidified he was a shit-stain.
I laid a possessive hand on the small of her back, which he immediately noticed because his eyes hardened. Good. “You ready to get back to my place, Angel?” I kissed her forehead and victory pumped through me when she lifted her gaze to mine.
“Yes.” Relief and gratitude laced her sweet voice. She smiled apologetically at Ryan. “It was good seeing you again, Ryan. I—”
“Is this who you’re fucking now?” he demanded incredulously. I started an internal debate over which spot on his pretty face I wanted to punch the most. Before Kinsey had a chance to speak, he sneered and addressed me directly. “Wrap it up, brother. This bitch has been all over the place.”
The nose, I finally decided. Definitely his straight, pretty boy nose. I strayed from violence—my mother had taught me better—but that didn’t mean I didn’t take some satisfaction at the sickening crunch that came along when my elbow became acquainted with Ryan’s face.
He stumbled back, bumping into the coin machine as he gripped his bleeding nose. “You stupid fucking—”
“If you ever come near her, or speak to her like that again, I’ll re-break it,” I growled. Facing Kinsey, I froze when I saw that she was covering her own mouth and trembling.
Damn.
Without another word, she slid into the truck and shut the door.
♫
“Sorry about Ryan’s nose,” I told her several hours later when I found on her on the porch swing after dinner. She was staring out at what was left of the sunlight, rocking slowly back and forth and humming quietly. When she saw me, the music caught in the back of her throat. “Trust me, I don’t normally go around beating up assholes, but that guy was a piece of work.”
I sat beside her on the swing, and she scooted in the opposite direction. “Where’s Mrs. H?”
“In Grandpa’s old office taking care of bills.”
“Good,” she sighed. Her blue eyes lifted to my face. “Thank you.”
My mouth dropped in surprise. “Well, hell, Angel, now you’re thanking me? You’ve avoided me ever since we got home. I was thinking I’d pissed you off by hitting him.”
“You breaking Ryan Simmons nose didn’t piss me off, it was the highlight of my day.” Wringing her hands together in her lap, she laughed, but it sounded empty. “His dad owns three car dealerships around here. When he took me out, he figured the fact he’s in a dealership commercial on local TV meant he was celebrity enough for me to give him road head. I said no and he got mean, so I just walked home. Needless to say he’s spent the last six months spreading it around that I’m a slut.”
Now I wished I’d just given up on debating where to punch Ryan and had worked the little shit over. “If he decides to press charges, I’ll tell the judge it was worth it to hear the sound of his nose breaking.”
She smiled. I moved closer. “You don’t have to worry about him pressing charges.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s telling everyone on Facebook it’s a battle wound from riding his four-wheeler.”
“Pussy,” I drawled, and she nodded in agreement, so I slid even closer to her. Our arms touched. I heard her breath hitch. Damn, I wanted to hear her say my name. But most of all, I just wanted to taste her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do with me.”
“I know.” When my fingers tangled in her golden hair, she parted her lips, releasing a sexy moan. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she admitted. “It’s like—you’re everywhere. Does that make any sense?”
Good. Because the feeling is mutual.
I brought her face close to mine, but the sound of a horn blaring in the driveway tore us apart. Kinsey slid to the other side of the swing again, her face cherry red.
I was going to kill whoever was still laying on their horn.
I glared out into the driveway, but the high beams flashing in our direction prevented me from identifying the car and driver. Racing down the steps toward the lights, part of me expected to find Ryan brandishing a baseball bat, but then the driver cut the bright lights. I groaned at the sight of my designer purse-toting, scowling sister standing beside the C-class convertible she’d talked Mom and Dad into getting her for her twenty-first birthday last year.
“What are you doing here?” I groaned.
Hazel tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and flashed her teeth at me. “Dad was worried about you, so he sent me to make sure you weren’t … getting into anything stupid out here.” She walked past, narrowing her green eyes into thin slits as she did, and gagging me with the scent of whatever cosmetic counter she’d cleaned out. “By the way … surprise.”
Then, sashaying right past Kinsey like she didn’t even exist, Hazel swept inside Mim’s house and slammed the door.